


Hold Onto This Lullaby

by princeful



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Hoping to get this past 1400 words, I Can't Sing, M/M, Neighbors, hopefully
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-29 07:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6364486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princeful/pseuds/princeful
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry sat down on his bed, picked up his notepad, and began writing parts for a song (and poem) that would never be published.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Onto This Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Hahaha, yeah, I actually made something. There will be another part for the Irish Princess series sometimes this week because I haven't updated anything in it for about one or two months. 
> 
> Can't write a full song, so, here's parts of one. Harry is sort of a sad man in this story.

 

A wooden door slammed shut and the stairs creaked as weight was placed upon them. A bedroom door shut and Harry leaned against it. His bedroom always looked the same. The same cream wall color, the same carpeted floor, and the same glow-in-the-dark star covered ceiling. Harry backed away from the door and walked towards his dresser.

Harry picked up his notepad and sat down on his bed. He opened it, flipping pages until he got to the one page that he hoped would turn out right. The sentences for possible songs were crossed out because Harry didn't know what to write afterwards.

 

~~If I could only see how it felt to be in your shoes~~

~~I could understand you better than before~~

~~The way you walked into the street had me screaming~~

~~The cliff got closer as I got farther~~

~~I never knew myself like you do~~

This time, it will be better.

 

That last sentence was the one Harry wrote this morning before he left. And here he was, crossing it out.

~~This time, it will be better.~~

Harry leaned against the headboard on his bed and scratched his head. He was having song writers block. Even though he wasn't in the singing business. Harry shook his head and looked out his window. It was nighttime and the stars were looking so bright tonight.

Brighter than his future for sure.

Harry's hand picked up a pencil and wrote on the notepad without Harry even looking at it.

_Stars look brighter than my future._

Harry squinted as he saw something in the distance. He got up from his bed and stood near his window, leaning against the wall. Outside, there was a wolf. What the wolf was doing out there, Harry had no idea. The wolf was sniffing the grass when Harry's hand wrote another sentence on the notepad.

_Even a wolves fur isn't as dim as mine._

Harry was about to walk away from the window when he saw another wolf coming up from behind the other. It was smaller than the first one, so, Harry assumed that the tiny wolf was family.

And he was correct. The tiny wolf walked between the first wolf's legs and rubbed it's furry face against it's leg. Harry could've stayed there all day watching them, and his hand moved across the paper once again.

_They are faster, stronger, and better than I._

_They can walk in circles but I'm so amateur._

_With the way I feel, I could sell myself for a dime._

Harry walked towards his desk and sat down in his chair. He rubbed his face with his hands and this time, he was looking directly at the paper.

_I'm coming on strong, I can feel it_

_If only I knew how you see the world  
_

_Then I could understand you better._

Harry stopped at that moment and leaned back in his chair. He turned around when he realized that something was touching him. It was the wind. Harry put down his pencil and breathed out a sigh of relief.

He could finally feel the wind again. 

Now, it's only a matter of time before he couldn't feel anything once again.

* * *

 

A wooden door slammed shut and the floorboard creaked as they were walked upon. Harry sat down on his couch and pulled out his notepad from his bag. Harry clicked the pen in his hand and stood up from the couch. There was a need for inspiration right then.

Harry looked around the room and walked around.

_I remember you said "Please protect me from the dark."_

_But I couldn't_

Harry tapped the pen against his lips and his hand move once again. 

_And now you're out there in the sea of sharks_

_I know I shouldn't_

The pen fell from his hands and Harry grabbed it quickly before it could roll under the sofa. He had another sentence for a song that would never be published.

_And now you're out there and the dogs are barking_

_The sirens are getting louder_

_And I can't stop them._

 

Harry sniffed and wiped his eyes. He was crying, and he wasn't even going to deny it. Harry put his notepad and pen back in his bag, stood up, and walked up the creaking stairs.

* * *

 

Today, a wooden door didn't slam shut.

Today, the floorboards didn't squeak.

Today, the stairs didn't creak.

Harry hadn't opened the door just yet though. He was...talking to someone today. His new neighbor came to briefly ask him if he had a cup of sugar, a cup of milk, three eggs and a stick of butter he could spare. Harry nodded and went inside, motioning for the neighbor to come in with his cups and bowls.

His new neighbor was very pretty. Maybe it was the hair. Maybe it was the eyes. Harry didn't know, but what he did know, was that he needed a few ingredients. Harry reached into his refrigerator and pulled out the milk and then he walked towards the storage cubby and took out the sugar.

He set them on the counter and let his neither measure what he needed. When his neighbor was done, he looked at Harry and said, "Do you have a stick of butter, too?"

Harry's heart jumped. Maybe he was startled from his mind. He didn't know, but what he did know, was that he needed a stick of butter. Harry slowly walked towards the refrigerator, feeling uncomfortable about the way his neighbor was staring at him, and opened the door. Harry looked at the side shelf and slightly hesitated. 

He only had one full stick of butter. Harry thought that he could just lie and say he didn't have any butter he could spare. But, he took the stick of butter out and handed it to his neighbor. Harry didn't want to continue calling his neighbor "His Neighbor" so he asked for his name. His neighbor said his name was Louis Tomlinson. 

Well,  ~~his neighbor~~ Louis Tomlinson said, "How about three eggs?" Harry's heart almost jumped that time. But, he wandered to the refrigerator (once again), opened the door and looked at the other side shelf. He pulled out the egg carton, opened it, and almost hesitated. There was only three eggs in the carton.

When was the last time Harry went to the store? Harry didn't know, maybe it was weeks or months ago. He was thinking that he could just lie and say he didn't have three eggs to spare. But, he took the eggs out (nearly dropping all three of them), walked towards  ~~his neighbor~~ Louis Tomlinson, and carefully set them in the bowl on the counter right beside him.

"Did I get them all?" Harry asked Louis Tomlinson.

And for once, he didn't say his neighbor.

* * *

 

It seemed today was a special day for Harry's house. And no, it wasn't the spider crawling across the floor trying to get to the kitchen. Harry decided to stay outside to write in his notepad. Harry opened it, picked up his pen and looked towards the street. There were some children kicking a ball in a circle. But then again, Harry's house **was** across the street from the park. 

_There's this red ball inside my head_

_It goes around and around_

_I feel like my body is made of lead_

_And the lead makes me fall over onto the ground_

Harry looked away from his notepad and tapped the pen onto his lip. The wind was blowing quite fiercely today. But, it was fine. Harry was wrapped in a blanket. It's not like it was summer. 

_This red ball makes me go insane_

_While the voices make me psychotic_

_I'm not schizophrenic, I must say_

_But, I'm a normal person with thoughts inside my brain_

This excerpt was starting to sound like a poem. As Harry was contemplating whether or whether not he should become a inspiring poem writer, Louis Tomlinson walked up to him.

"Hello there, neighbor." Louis Tomlinson said, startling Harry out of his internal thoughts. 

"Hello there, Louis Tomlinson." Harry responded, putting his notepad down.

"You can call me Louis, not just my full name, you know? Unless, you're into the full name thing." Louis  ~~Tomlinson~~ said to him and walked up one of the steps to his porch. Harry blushed a tiny bit and shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe I am and I just didn't know." Harry was talking a lot more than usual. Maybe he shouldn't refer to himself in third person. Or, was the author being an idiot? That's probably the case for the most part. Harry shimmied the blanket off of him and folded it while Louis continued to talk. "Well, there's two things I would like to say. A statement and then a question, if you don't mind." 

Harry nodded and let Louis continue. "Okay, I'd like to say thank you for the cup of sugar, milk, the three eggs and the stick of butter. It really meant a lot to me." Harry smiled (like, a actual smile) and turned to look at Louis.

"You are welcome, Louis. I actually don't help a lot of people, but you were the exception." Harry responded to him. Louis smiled and looked down at the next step. He walked up it and he was closer.

"Well, I suppose I can take that as a compliment," Louis walked up the third step to the porch. "Anyways, here's the question. What is your name?" Harry put down the folded blanket and put his notepad and pen on it. 

"My name?" Harry said as Louis walked up the fourth step. "Yes, your name. Considering the fact that you know my name, I would like to know yours." 

"It's Harry Styles." Harry responded as Louis finally stepped onto his porch. Louis sniffed the air and slightly smiled.

"Are you baking vanilla cookies?" Harry shook his head.

"Maybe, that's just my candle. It's Brownie Pecan Pie." Harry gestured to the window and Louis stepped towards it. He sniffed again and made a sound of understanding.

"Oh, it still smells wonderful. You have nice candle taste,  ~~neighbor~~ ~~~~Harry." Louis said as he looked around his porch. Harry's porch was clean, much nicer than his own.

Harry pushed his door open a bit, and said, "Would you like to come in? Your nose wasn't incorrect, I actually was making vanilla cookies. You can have a few if you like." Louis smiled, nodded, and went inside Harry's house. 

* * *

 

Louis left with a plate full of vanilla cookies. Harry closed his door a few minutes later when Louis' door closed. Harry picked up his blanket, notepad and pen from the table and put them down on the table. Harry put the tray of cookies into a container and into the refrigerator they went.

He sat down, picked up his notepad and pen, then began writing. 

_I give you this_

_I give you that_

_It's all voluntary if I must say_

_I don't particularly mind_

_It's for a good cause._

While he was outside, Harry decided to become a poem writer. It seemed much easier than being a song writer that wrote songs that would never be published. Harry set down his notepad and pen and walked over towards the window. He opened the thin, dark orange curtains and looked across the street.

Harry liked Louis' house.

* * *

_"I used to think that I was better alone._

_Why did I ever wanna let you go?_

_Under the moonlight as we stared at the sea._

_The words you whispered I will always believe..."_

Now that Harry thought about it, the voice that sang this part sounded exactly like Louis  ~~Tomlinson~~. 

 

Harry turned off his desktop computer and left his house. He had no shoes on. Mainly the reason was because he wanted to feel the grass below his feet. He had never walked outside barefoot before because he used to live in a area that had a lot of rocks on the ground. This would be a first.

His first for in forever.

Harry had brought out his notepad and pen (even though it wasn't said) and decided to see if he could get any ideas for poems that would never be published.

The wind was the same.

There were no wolves today.

The trees were still standing tall.

What inspiration was there to write about?

Harry walked around his backyard, hoping to get inspiration.

Luckily, a person on the other side of the fence sprayed water on him.

 

Harry gasped and his hand began writing across the paper.

 

_The record goes round and round_

_I can't get enough of that summer sound_

_It's breaking the rope that was made for the rainbow._

 

Harry groaned and stomped his foot. This wasn't what he was expecting when the magical water from the hose hit his face. He crossed out the words.

 

~~The record goes round and round~~

~~I can't get enough of that summer sound~~

~~It's breaking the rope that was made for the rainbow.~~

 

"Hello there, Harry!"  ~~His neighbor~~ Louis  ~~Tomlinson~~ said from across the street. Harry waved at him when he went across the street to stand in front of Harry. "I'd like to thank you for the vanilla cookies. They were absolutely delightful!" Louis smiled and rocked on the balls of his feet.

"Ah...you're welcome. After years of eating alone, it's nice to share food with someone." And, there Harry goes giving away his eating lifestyle. 

"Well," Louis said "I'd be glad to eat your food. With you if you would like." Harry breathed out of his nose, slightly smiling. 

He was glad that Louis wanted to eat with him.

* * *

 

The next day, Louis ate plain cheese pizza with Harry.

The next next day, Louis ate spaghetti and garlic bread with Harry.

The next next next day, Louis ate fries with Harry.

The next next next _next_ day, Louis ate a sandwich with Harry.

Many days after that, Louis ate with Harry.

Louis kept that promise for many months that came and Harry was glad that he did. Harry sat on a pillow, notepad and pencil in hand. He was once again looking for inspiration. From inside this time. Harry thought that he would be able to have something to write about instead of that "the record goes round and round" material.

He was looking outside the window when he hand began gliding across the paper. Harry didn't even know what he was writing. He was letting his hand do the work (as it has worked before). When his hand stopped, Harry looked down.

He groaned.

Was this happening? Was this _really_ _happening?_

Harry looked out the window again but his hand didn't move this time. Harry closed his notepad and set it down on the table that was in front of him. A face appeared outside of his window. It was Louis.

Harry opened the window, just so he could hear ~~his neighbor~~ Louis speak.

"Hello there, Harry! Can I come in?" Harry nodded and opened the door for him. "Thank you!" Louis disappeared from the window and at appeared at the door.

"Now, I think it's lunchtime?" Harry smiled.

* * *

 

Maybe the reason why Harry's hand hadn't moved was because Louis was starting to distract him every time he looked out the window.

**Author's Note:**

> The reason for the "a cup of sugar, a cup of milk, three eggs, and a stick of butter he could spare" was from a show that I used to watch, it was called 'Martha Speaks'. Yeah...I still remember that. Did you enjoy?
> 
> WHAT EVEN IS THIS STORY?!


End file.
